


Fading Beauty

by Kira_Tamarion



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-14
Updated: 2021-03-14
Packaged: 2021-03-21 21:47:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,052
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30028302
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kira_Tamarion/pseuds/Kira_Tamarion
Summary: Only the purely good can become purely evil





	Fading Beauty

**Author's Note:**

> A Challenges Prompt - I was given two characters, a place, and a prompt.  
> Character: Urthemiel, Dragon of Beauty and Archdemon of the Fifth Blight  
> Character: Templar  
> Place: Disused Passage - either specifically this one or a random one!  
> Prompt: Which spell is that?

**Fading Beauty**  
  
Avenia laid in bed, sleep typically elusive. It was going on her third night of no sleep. As a new templar she had begun taking lyrium. Unfortunately it had the side-effect of persistent insomnia. By taking extra guard shifts in the Gallows Circle she had managed to tire herself out enough to catch at least 4 hours of sleep. Yesterday and today, however, there were no extra shifts to take. She tried meditation, reading a boring treatise on Eruditions. All to no avail. Now she lay there staring at the ceiling and praying for a few hours of sleep.  
  
Avenia opened her eyes and was completely disoriented. She looked about. _Wait, I am in that weird passage by the docks. What did Knight-Captain Meredith call it... ah the disused passage. How did I get here?_  
  
Unable to remember leaving the gallows, it slowly dawned on her that she must be dreaming. _Thank the Maker! If I’m dreaming then I have fallen asleep._ Her relief was short lived when she noticed a red glow in her peripheral vision. Turing she saw the gleam emanate from a pile of detritus in the far corner of the passage. As she approached, the red deepened and the glow intensified. Moving away some of the rubbish revealed a seal.

Avenia gasped at the text. “That is ancient Tevine for the God of Silence. Dumat! Why am I dreaming of this? Is it a portent? What could it represent?"  
  
“It is what it appears, Young Templar.”  
  
At the sound of the throaty baritone, Avenia whirled around, hand on her sword pommel, but all conscious thoughts fled from her mind as she saw what she could only describe as beauty incarnate. The being stood over 7 feet tall, broad-shouldered and brawny. They _appeared_ masculine. His skin a mahogany so dark and rich it was almost ebony. His eyes were a brilliant topaz. He had the build of a kosith, the ears of an elf, but the long straight glossy black hair, strong jaw, and goatee of a human. He wore leathers of a deep aubergine.  
  
Surprisingly, she felt no fear. She felt goodness and benevolence emanate from him. _Is he the Maker?_ Shocked that he might be, she fell to her knees and bowed in supplication "I am unworthy of your presence."  
  
“Please rise, I am not the Maker. I, like you, am dreaming. This is the Fade.”  
  
“Are you a mage?”  
  
“No, I am not. I am as I appear to be.”  
  
 _He appears to be a god, which is impossible_. “You must be a demon!”  
  
“I am no demon. I reject evil. If you doubt me, then kill me."  
  
Try as she might she could feel naught but a sense of pure goodness, giving up she sighed, “I am Avenia, Templar in Kirkwall. What may I call you?"  
  
"Themiel."  
  
"Themiel,” she nodded, “what do you know about this seal?"  
  
“Unlike us, this exists physically both in the Fade and in the waking world. Dumat must have left this as a trap.”  
  
"A trap? Then it must be destroyed.”  
  
“It cannot be destroyed without tainting one’s soul.”  
  
“Taint as in darkspawn. Old Gods. Black city?”  
  
Themiel nodded.  
  
Running her had through her short hair, she sighed. “It doesn't matter, I swore an oath, and this evil must not remain." She drew her sword.  
  
“Avenia, wait! Nothing made by mortals can break it.”  
  
“You mean it requires magic?”  
  
“I can only think of one spell that can break it.”  
  
“Which spell is that?”  
  
“Smite.”  
  
“Smite is not a spell, it’s a templar ability.”  
  
“Can it be performed without lyrium?”  
  
“No.”  
  
"Then it is a spell."  
  
"No, it is a gift from the Maker."  
  
“As you will.” Themiel smiled.  
  
Avenia was again completely distracted by his beauty. "Stop it!"  
  
“Stop what?” He frowned in confusion.  
  
"Stop being so damned beautiful.'' As she said it she felt like an idiot.  
  
Instead of laughing, Themiel looked into her eyes. His gaze was intoxicating. “I cannot. Neither can you."  
  
"What? I'm not beautiful.”  
  
“Ah, but you are. You shine brightly, pure of heart, brave, and selfless. That is true beauty.”  
  
Avenia forced herself to look away from his eyes and keep her mind on task. “Do you think a smite would work?”  
  
“It is a concussive force that does not require physical contact with the seal. But there is still a grave risk, you must not try.”  
  
“No, I must try”  
  
Before Themiel could utter another word she let out a smite that shattered the seal. The backlash knocked Avenia off her feet. As she landed on her back, the breath was expelled from her lungs. Gasping for a few moments, she was able to finally breathe. Then she saw Themiel kneeling at her side, tears gleaming in his eyes. “Why are you crying?”  
  
“Your light... Your light is fading. The corruption is setting in."  
  
“Is the seal destroyed?”  
  
He nodded unable to speak as tears flowed down his face.  
  
“Then I have done my duty. Please kill me before…before I spread this disease.”  
  
“I cannot kill you but... but I can restore your light.”  
  
“Will it … it harm you?”  
  
Themiel nodded.  
  
“Then I cannot accept your death in return to for my life.”  
  
“There is no time to argue. You must promise me something though. When you wake up write to the warden-commander Duncan of Ferelden, tell him to prepare.”  
  
“The wardens? Prepare?... What... Why.?”  
  
Themiel whispered in her ear. “Will you do this?”  
  
Avenia nodded, no longer able to speak. She closed her eyes as Themiel placed his hands over her heart and closed his eyes.  
  
Feeling returned to her limbs, her mind cleared, but when she opened her eyes she saw the exquisite mahogany-colored skin and aubergine colored leathers slowly being replaced with spines and scales of royal purple. The dazzling smile became a sharp-toothed grimace. Themiel practically snarled, “Leave now! Do as I asked.”  
  
Avenia woke up with a start. Her heart beat like a triphammer, her nightclothes damp with sweat. Quickly she went to the desk, took out parchment and quill and wrote the message verbatim while it was still burned in her brain

>   
>    
>  _Warden Compound_   
>  _Denerim_   
>    
>  _Dear Warden-Commander Duncan,_   
>    
>  _You must prepare._   
>    
>  _Deus autem pulchritudinis resurget, and with him will come the fifth Blight._


End file.
